


earth, sky, and the oceans in between us

by ChocolateAndDragons



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Car rides, Confessions, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together kinda, Hurt/Comfort, Iwaizumi Hajime is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Oikawa comforting iwa cuz we need more of that, Pining, Pre-Timeskip, Some angst but not really, there are probably 100 tags missing that I can't think of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29299557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateAndDragons/pseuds/ChocolateAndDragons
Summary: "Flicking raindrops out of his hair, Oikawa beams, and Hajime finds himself drawn towards the door, wondering how his fingers would feel tangled up in his chestnut curls. (Maybe another day he wouldn’t have stopped himself. You can’t do that anymore, he chides. It’s too late...)“Look what I got you, Iwa-chan!”“The mail?” he scoffs, desperately hoping that the way he shrinks away isn’t obvious. What is he supposed to do now?What are you supposed to do when a beautiful boy breaks down your door with a ticking time bomb, laughing like he’s stolen the sun?"OR: Iwaizumi doesn't know exactly how to feel about moving away from everything he knows and Oikawa helps.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	earth, sky, and the oceans in between us

**Author's Note:**

> this took me way too long to write and it's not even completely edited. Nothing big, but I'll probably go back to edit and make it better later.

Today is just one of those days.

Iwaizumi Hajime is accustomed to fortitude, to the Earth steady beneath his feet, but today is just one of those days where your strengths fail you and wrap around your head, tying themselves into weaknesses instead. The earth is ravaged by rain and the dirt he has always loved is turning to quicksand. His roots are chipping away and he admits that he’s wearing himself thin now- and damn, Hajime hates it. He can preach about self-care and staying healthy all he wants, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s pulled so many all-nighters this semester that stupid English phrases still blur his head.

So he warms up a mug of hot chocolate like it is a cure to all this damn cold, like he’s buried in winter’s avalanche instead of shrinking away from midsummer storms.

Fear has never helped anyone, but it has paralyzed him all week, ever since he glimpsed the letter in his mailbox- the letter still in his mailbox- the call of the sea. The ocean hurls below him, and Hajime knows he doesn’t fear drowning, just drifting out to sea alone, lost.

_ It’s raining,  _ he tells himself, as if matters.  _ Pouring. It’s storming. Don’t want to get struck by lightning or something. _

_ I’m busy. Busy, not scared. _

He’s not scared, Hajime swears it.

He can handle failure and rejection; take the blow and move on, tell himself that he tried his best. Hajime is resilient and confident, he knows he is: He can swallow the bitterness, put the dizzying amount of all-nighters and heartbreaking disappointment behind him, and live with lifelong regret. It is a future he knows, a future he can imagine; it is mediocre, if not bright. 

Unfortunately, it seems Oikawa- hurricane of his life, insufferable brat,  _ Shittykawa _ \- will not stand for that.

He barges into Hajime’s house, dripping wet, flourishing the key he’d been given  _ strictly _ for emergencies in one hand and a stack of mail in the other. Hajime gawks from the kitchen, kicking himself. Of course, Oikawa would do this. He always does.

“One day, I’m going to think you’re a burglar and accidentally chuck a kitchen knife at you,” Hajime remarks dryly, but today is not one of those days where Oikawa clings to the details and shoots back missiles laced with those lethal smiles. 

Today is one of those days where Oikawa just laughs.

“You always know it’s me.” 

Today is just one of those days where the world spins a little faster than usual and Hajime is left gasping for air, Oikawa’s quick wit and sharp edges rounding out- the crown is off but he shines so, so much brighter. Flicking raindrops out of his hair, Oikawa beams, and Hajime finds himself drawn towards the door, wondering how his fingers would feel tangled up in his chestnut curls. (Maybe another day he wouldn’t have stopped himself.  _ You can’t do that anymore, _ he chides.  _ It’s too late...)  _

“Look what I got you, Iwa-chan!” 

“The mail?” he scoffs, desperately hoping that the way he shrinks away isn’t obvious. What is he supposed to do now? 

What are you supposed to do when a beautiful boy breaks down your door with a ticking time bomb, laughing like he’s stolen the sun?

“Better yet! Your future!” Oikawa obnoxiously waves an envelope stamped with large, bold English letters- _ University of California, Irvine _ \- in his face and tosses the rest of the mail haphazardly onto the kitchen counter. The edges of the envelope are moist, peeling, and crinkled- and, oh, there’s a rip.

Hajime’s expression sours. _ Of course. _

“Did you peek at my letter from UCI, Shittykawa?”

“No, of course not! Whyever would I do such a thing? That is preposterous!” Oikawa puts a hand to his chest. “How could you accuse me of such crimes? Do you not trust me?”

“You asshole, you read my college letter before I even got to look at it.” Oikawa just gives him a cheeky grin, elated, but his meaning is clear; Hajime is certain the Earth rocks beneath him. 

There’s still a certain weight that comes with opening the envelope. Open, there is action: telling his parents, packing, uncertain preparations, goodbyes and departure; loneliness and unfamiliarity.

He can’t be carried away by the flood yet.

He can’t number his summer days yet.

He can’t- so Hajime leaves the envelope sealed, where it can only taunt him. Today’s date is June 3rd, but he’d rather it just be one of those days, where the rain bombards his walls and all the windows shine like crystal and he drinks hot chocolate in summer.

“Aren’t you gonna open it for yourself?” Oikawa deflates all at once; the hissing of a balloon to go along with the sight is almost audible. He stares at him intensely, expression switching from puppy-like excitement to piercing and analytical in the blink of an eye. It’s unnerving- Hajime is rarely the subject of Oikawa’s scrutiny, and he has to fight the urge to squirm.

“Why should I? I mean, there’s no point. It’s already opened.” Hajime says, turning away and scowling at the ground. Let the polished wood floors splinter at his feet and swallow him whole. 

There’s a pause, Oikawa reluctantly setting the envelope aside.

Hajime reaches for his hot chocolate, but he feels weight ease onto him: Oikawa, resting his chin on his shoulder, his arms coming around him. Another day, he might’ve grumbled something about clinginess, feigned discomfort, but today Hajime finds himself leaning back into the warmth, relaxing as Oikawa’s hair brushes against his cheeks.

“Want to go for a drive?” Oikawa mumbles, melting into his shoulder.

“Not today,” Hajime lies. “It’s raining, anyway.”

_ Humor me for once. Let’s just stay like this. _

Oikawa hums, breath warm against Hajime’s neck. Hajime is contemplating reaching for his hands when Oikawa abruptly seizes his hands and drags him to the door. “We’re going for a drive.”

“What the fuck?” Hajime stumbles across the floor, barely managing to set down his drink. “I just said no- there’s a storm- why would you-”

“Come on, don’t be like that.” 

“Are you a child- I don’t even have shoes on, let go of me, Trashykawa.”

“Then put them on!”

“I would if you would let go of me!”

Oikawa pouts, releasing his hands and swinging open his front door as Hajime slips his shoes on. He’s back to his bubbling self, tossing a jacket to him, but Hajime knows his true intentions.

Hajime had gotten his driver’s license in their second year, a week or two before Oikawa had injured his knee- inconveniently convenient as they traded their walks home for car rides. It just so happened that sometimes they were too tired to head home, and the drone of the car engine was unexpectedly soothing.

Soon enough, the drives had become his way of reminding Oikawa he could stop and sit; he didn’t have to run himself to the ground to move.

Hajime isn’t usually the one on the other end of their drives, though. It feels wrong to sit in the passenger seat, but he thinks it might be like a breath of fresh air, like the relief he has so desperately been grappling for ever since Oikawa broke into his house waving that ticking time-bomb in his hands. He’s more than willing to try that, to sit back and let the road take him away, but before he can act, Oikawa slides into the passenger seat, motioning for him to hurry.

_ Dammit.  _

Hajime sighs-  _ he never lets anyone have what they want _ \- and steps into the downpour, the wind slapping against his face. He slips behind the wheel, shifting uncomfortably as his jacket sticks to the seat, already damp.

“Let’s go far,” Oikawa says, resting an elbow on the dashboard and twisting towards him. “As far out as we can go.” 

_ No,  _ Hajime thinks.  _ I’d much rather stay here. Especially now. _

They never leave the neighborhood- it’s always been the familiar streetlights etching shadows across their faces, drawing soft, muffled confessions from their lips. The comfort he craves is certain near home, cramped in these car seats, within the chalk outlines they scribbled as kids.

“You seriously want to drive straight into the storm, Shittykawa?”

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. It’s supposed to slow down, not speed up. Hajime just wants a chance to savor home before the earthquake starts- before he is tossed in uncharted waters.

He refuses to go charging headfirst into danger, but Oikawa Tooru is smiling at him from the very passenger seat he had cried in less than a month ago- about time zones and Spanish and high school graduation and plane tickets and everything in between. It’s almost  _ too  _ genuine because, for all his extravagance and petty childishness, it’s on days where he is laid at his barest that Oikawa is far too much for him.

Hajime tells himself that he’s untouched by the unmistakable gravity that Oikawa wields; pretends that he wouldn’t walk to the edge of the earth for the idiot who has brought him all the way here (because, truthfully, it would ruin him.)

But ultimately, it only takes a fleeting smile for something in Hajime to break. 

They can drive all 6,000 miles between Argentina and California if they have to, cut right through the ocean, and definitely through this goddamn thunderstorm.

He pulls out of the driveway. “I swear to god, if something goes wrong, I am decking you.”

“When has anything I’ve done ever gone wrong?”

“When has it not?”

They share a smile, and Hajime drives; because today is just one of those days.

**. . . .** **. . . .** **. . . .**

Fuck Oikawa for making him believe in the impossible. 

Raindrops pelt into the windshield, thud into the roof of the car, the distant rumble of thunder most definitely a roar now. It’ll crush his car, Hajime’s sure of it. He squints, trying to make out the road between streams over the water obscuring his view, cursing under his breath. “Great idea, dumbass.”

Oikawa laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not  _ that _ bad.”

“What part of this is ‘not that bad,’ Shittykawa?”

“Um, I mean…” Oikawa spreads his arms awkwardly, “At least we haven’t crashed? There are no other cars around?”

Hajime grinds his teeth together, his grip going white on the steering wheel. “Yeah, well, I really hope so, ‘cause I sure as hell can’t see anything!”

Oikawa falters, biting his lip. “Sorry, I just meant to do something to-”

“Yeah, I know. And now we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, during a thunderstorm, I can’t see a thing in front of me, and it’s probably going to flood. Amazing how that works out.”

_ Don’t do this. Don’t do this now. _

Oikawa’s expression turns to stone. “Right. Obviously. When has anything I’ve done ever not gone wrong?”

_ Shit.  _

“I didn’t mean that.” 

“Of course you didn’t. You’d just much rather be at home and rid of me.”

“Oikawa-”

“Whatever. I saw a sign for a picnic area a while ago. We can pull up there and wait this out.”

Hajime hopes he can make it that far without being struck with another disaster. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just… frustrated. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“Mhm.”

Hajime pulls up in a parking lot and turns off the engine. He sighs, looking over at Oikawa, who has gone stiff next to him, glaring out the window. 

_ Don’t do this again. Don’t do this now. _

But he’s reaching for Oikawa anyway, just like he’s not supposed to, for the hands he’s shoved into the pockets of his Seijoh track jacket, gently resting his warm palm against Oikawa’s cold skin. “...It’s not that bad. Definitely better than sitting home alone.” 

God, he’s terrified. But Oikawa’s expression softens as his fingers lace through his, and Hajime can breathe a little easier. “It might’ve been a bit of an emotional decision to start with.”

“I could tell,” he deadpans.

“Hey! Spontaneous isn’t always bad.”

“Except now.”

“Maybe now.”

“Maybe,” Hajime says, giving in. (He’s beginning to realize that he gives in a bit too easily with Oikawa.) “This is the stupid kind of thing that happens in movies.”

“Aw, you mean all those romances. I  _ knew _ you secretly liked those, Iwa-chan!”

He rolls his eyes. “I meant horror movies. Where everything goes to shit and everyone dies.”

“Well, I guess you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life, then.” Hajime glances at Oikawa from the corner of his eye, who beams like he considers being a pain in the ass a personal achievement. 

He bites back a fond smile. “I always knew you were gonna be the death of me.”

_ I wouldn’t mind that. _

“Consider yourself blessed,” Oikawa answers smugly. Hajime would punch him for the arrogant look on his face, but that would require him to either awkwardly maneuver or to let go of Oikawa’s hand, and he doesn’t quite have the energy to do either right now. He settles with reaching up to flick him on the cheek. 

“You’re such a brat, Shittykawa.” But suddenly, he doesn’t mind the rain as much. The storm will pass.

Oikawa grins knowingly, as if he’s won something. “There’s the Iwa-chan I know and love!”

Hajime chuckles lightly, looking outside, though there’s nothing to see but the patterns the raindrops have painted on his window. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“You’re a horrible liar.”

“Figures.”

And there’s Oikawa at it again, clambering around in his seat so they face each other, releasing his hand for the slightest second before seeking it out again. 

Hajime shakes his head at the sight, exasperated, “You’re getting mud on my seats,” but he shifts closer all the same.

“You have to go, y’know,” Oikawa tells him.

Technically, he doesn’t, Hajime wants to argue. He could stay. They could both stay- it would be safe.

“I know,” he says instead, because he’s a horrible liar, at least to Oikawa. “But knowing isn’t the same.”

“But it is.”

“For you, maybe.” 

Of course it is. Oikawa unyielding and destructively so- he’d drive right into a storm and never hit the brakes. He’s an asshole like that.

And he’s amazing like that.

Seeing his expression, Oikawa gives him a quizzical look, and Hajime continues, “I mean, I know you…” 

But he’s still too afraid to remind Oikawa that friends don’t cling to each other’s warmth, and too afraid to pull away.

Oikawa is silent for a moment.

“That just means you don’t know enough,” he says finally, pouting, but Hajime detects the strain in his voice.

_ Not now. Don’t make me say it. _

“Ok.” Hajime takes a deep breath. "My favorite day of the week is Monday. I never made you milk bread like I said I did because I can't bake. And... my favorite constellation is the Big Dipper because it's the only one I remember."

Oikawa gapes, his face crumbling, and for a moment, Hajime thinks he's going to cry. He prepares for it, even, blinking away the sting in his eyes as his stomach ties itself in knots. Then, Oikawa releases a breath and flashes a pitiful attempt at a grin, rubbing his face. “Rude! A decade of stargazing and the only thing you remember is the Big Dipper when I've been forced to watch your Godzilla movies so many times I'm sure I can recite the whole thing from memory."

"That's just proof that Godzilla is the best."

“Yeah, right,” Oikawa laughs wetly, and now Hajime’s sure he’s gonna cry. “...I meant seriously, though.”

“Oh.”

“Mhm.”

_ Like confessions. _ Hajime would laugh if he wasn’t so damn terrified.

“Alright,” he says. There’s nothing else to do. “You start.”

“Might as well go from the start-”

“The start?”

“Yeah, the start.” Oikawa gestures vaguely to the car and himself. “I meant to call you back then. When I hurt my knee, I mean. I honestly did. I was just- I was scared.”

Hajime already knows that. They’ve never had to say these things out loud. 

“I meant to call you, too. When I got the letter. Sorry.”

“I know. Me, too,” Oikawa chuckles. “But hey, you showed up anyway.”

“You showed up anyway,” Hajime echoes.

They lapse into silence at that, sharing tidbits at intervals- whatever they want, whenever they’re ready. Stupid mistakes, third favorite foods, the matching scars on their ankles from falling out of a tree in 1st grade, new things, old things, and-

“I’m still scared,” Oikawa says. 

_ I know.  _ But it feels so strange to hear him say it out loud. Oikawa has never admitted to weakness so easily. Hajime’s has to force it out of him every time- 

Oh.  _ That’s what he meant. _

These aren’t confessions- they know too much for that. They’re letting go of the shore, learning to form words, because neither of them truly ever knows the right words. They’ve never needed to until now.

“Everything I do just feels like a leap of faith,” Oikawa continues, hugging himself. “I’m- I dunno. It's just... y'know."

His gaze flickers up to Hajime before flitting away, and Oikawa leans back against the dashboard, the smile he's been so proudly flaunting falling away.

"Yeah, I guess. I know."

He knows Oikawa is staring right past him, past the rain and storm, his stare cutting straight to the spot on the horizon he chases ceaselessly. New horizons, always distant, unattainable horizons for Oikawa. He only yearns for the impossible. Somewhere along the way, he’d convinced Hajime it was easy, too.

"I’m leaving. We're leaving." Oikawa gets his words in order, and Hajime wants to scream.  _ Take it back. Take it back right now. _

_ We don’t have to. Let’s stay. I want to stay.  _

But what else would they be piling into a car for?

_ Wait the storm out with me, please. _

"This is what you want."

"I want a lot of things." Oikawa’s eyes flicker to him, the left corner of his mouth rising slightly. "Everything, more like it."

Hajime swallows back an uneasy laugh, scowling out the window instead. 

_ I'd give it to you if I could. _

But it’s all he can do is to push Oikawa forward, even if it means to push him away. “Then go take it all, dumbass. Take the leap of faith.”

“Right. It’s all okay, I guess.” Oikawa’s gaze drifts up to him, shy, and Hajime can’t help thinking that he loves the way his face looks, dusted with pink and red. “I always- I’ve always had someone to catch me.”

Hajime’s stomach drops. “Who’s gonna catch you now?”

_ Who’s gonna push me to the edge now? _

“Don’t worry,” Oikawa glows. “You get to see me fly now.” 

_ I’ll be watching. _

He squeezes his hand. “So you better be up there, too. You promised, remember.”

_ Oh.  _

“Yeah,” Hajime swallows. “Yeah, duh. Of course, I’ll be there, idiot.”

And there Oikawa goes again with his ineffable spell, pulling Hajime into promises he’s petrified of. He hates this. Screw it, he hates everything.

He hates how Oikawa’s face lights back up like his smile was just searching for a lifejacket to resurface (and he hates that he’s always been the lifejacket.)

He hates that he wouldn’t mind if it rains forever because, god, today is one of those days where Oikawa rivals the sun (and he hates how Oikawa is fire and kindness and gravity all at once.)

He hates how Oikawa saves these moments for him like lovers exchange flowers and picture frames; (and he hates Oikawa because that’s exactly what he is, a lover, tucked between smiles and rainy day drives, bursting through the gray clouds that he had meant to bury himself in.)

Maybe he should just say it outright.

_ Don’t do this. Don’t do this now. _

Goddamn Oikawa, fucking him up like this. 

“I love you,” Hajime whispers, and the world falls stagnant, the hammering of the rain fading to white noise. Kind words, kind emotions, kind intentions- but it’s still just as cruel, to be yanking Oikawa back and anchoring him to the ground with that horrible invisible red string. 

But it has been raining for one long week, and Hajime has been begging his earth not to turn to quicksand.

“I know,” Oikawa says instead, with none of the extravagance Hajime had imagined their confessions to be. It  _ is  _ Oikawa, after all. “I love you, too.”

Right. It’s  _ Oikawa _ .

“I know.” Still, he can’t get the knot in his chest to unravel.

“How long?” Oikawa says breathlessly. Hajime’s not quite sure if he means how long he’s known or how long he’s been in love, but both answers blended together at one point, anyway.

“Middle school. Earlier. I think. I figured it all out in middle school. Our second year.” He swallows, looking over at Oikawa. “You?”

“Since forever, probably, I realized in our third year of middle school. When, um, y’know?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Not the, er-” Oikawa giggles “-best timing.” 

Hajime shrugs, wondering why this isn’t exactly the elation he imagined. “‘S not important now.”

Then again, he’s hoping to avoid the important part. But Oikawa never leaves him with peace.

“...You’re scared, too,” he says. Sometimes, Hajime forgets that Oikawa knows him just as well as he knows him.

“I- yeah, I think I am,” Hajime sighs. “I’ve never been the best with change. And, well, this.”

He gestures vaguely to the two of them. In the end, he just doesn’t want to let go of Oikawa’s hand.

“Neither am I. But you’re the one who said to take the leap of faith, right?”

“No, I mean, I…” Hajime rubs his face, taking a deep breath. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Oikawa’s the clingy one, but Hajime has grown too used to his presence. Car rides, volleyball, Miyagi, home, Oikawa- they’re all the same, becoming another piece of his unwavering earth; pulling away leaves Hajime stumbling. Few plants survive relocation, withering away the moment they are yanked from their roots. 

Oikawa can’t fix that, nor can he prevent it. But maybe he can make it bearable, make it okay.

“Didn’t I say you’re stuck with me forever? You know you can’t get rid of me that easily, Iwa-chan.” His eyes gain the mischievous glint that Hajime has always associated with Oikawa-induced headaches, disastrous invasions of personal space, and his empty wallet; and suddenly nothing is quite as significant as it seemed. He’s still going to be woken at painstaking hours, braving thunderstorms and Oikawa’s shenanigans. 

Hajime groans. He’s gotten himself into a mess (and he wouldn’t have it any other way.) “I’m screwed.”

“Yup!” Oikawa exclaims. “Might as well change your last name now.”

Laughter bubbles up in his chest. He has the sudden urge to run his fingers through Oikawa’s hair, and this time, Hajime doesn’t stop himself. 

“You’re such a dumbass,” he murmurs and smiles, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. Maybe, another day, he would get an affronted cry of “rude!” in response, but not now.

Today is one of those days where Tooru just laughs, and suddenly everything is okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a million for reading!
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated <3


End file.
